Added Extras
by Handful of Silence
Summary: Written for an a team kink wing!fic prompt: Hannibal wonders how he ever managed to end up with a group of people less shocked when they discover his secret


_Author Note: Written for a prompt on a_team_kink meme on Livejournal. No pairings this time, although it was tempting :-) I typed this up at ungodly hours in the morning, so if there are any punctuation/spelling mistakes, please don't hesitate to tell me_

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_Prompt; "I'd love to see Hannibal with wings; big, fluffy, steel-grey wings. I'd also love to see him using said wings to protect one (or more, really, I'm not picky) of his boys, be it from a snow storm or an explosion or something"_

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**Added Extras**

His wings been a part of his life so long that often Hannibal completely forgot they were there. It was like having an extra limb, like possessing another arm or another leg, and unless he was using them -although there wasn't much he could use them for in truth; he didn't much like flying with them, having tried a couple of times and feeling a bit like an idiot for doing so- he didn't really think about the fact he had them that much. They were just there, and although he was pretty much used to their existence, he knew he would sorely miss them if he didn't have them- it'd be like having one less limb, and the loss of the weight of them to his balance would be strange to contend with. They were always at the back of his mind of course, the daily routine of hiding them behind suitable clothing , keeping them out of sight to avoid looks (because, being on the run, if people didn't recognise the four wanted fugitives from their identities, or the van, they'd definitely remember seeing a man with wings sticking out of his back if the CIA came a'calling)

He'd been keeping them out of sight for most of his life, and only a few close people had been aware of their existence in that time. Despite the trouble he sometimes had to go through with them, like constantly having to wear t-shirt's that covered them, even in the height of summer, personally he was quite attached to them. They were part of him; two metres of ligament and bone outstretched at each side- four metres in total-, iron grey feathers covering the skeletal frame that had changed colour over the years along with his hair. If he thought back to the tawny patched wings he'd possessed as a younger man- wings like that of an eagle or falcon- , back when he'd had more hair and less greys upon his head, he preferred the shading now of iron threaded with white, to that of his youth, despite the fact that it took more effort these days to keep his feathers in good condition (because being tucked into the alcove of his shoulder blades all day ruffled them of of shape, and at night he was glad when he could unfold them without the threat of them being seen.

Face had been the first to find out, out of the three other members of their team of fugitives, bursting into the Colonel's tent in HQ (back when he had been a _real _Colonel,) without knocking, and coming face to face with a top-less Hannibal , who'd moved away from the main mess hall for a five-second stretch of the ligaments that spread out from his shoulder blades. The Lieutenant had stood there for a moment; silence falling as Hannibal held his breath, holding to god the kid wouldn't freak and run away screaming or calling the Feds for them to take Hannibal away, because he'd managed to survive the army with only the camp doctor being aware of his... uniqueness (the man swearing to secrecy after a hefty bribe from Hannibal) , before Face shrugged to himself, and asked the Colonel with a look of curiosity, his eyes alight with interest, no fear; "Isn't that uncomfortable as hell, keeping those things hidden all the time?" When Hannibal had recovered from the shock, he found the words to ask Face why he wasn't the least bit put out by the discovery that his commanding officer had two metre wings sticking out of his back. Face had just shrugged again, saying that it didn't really matter, that he was the same Hannibal he'd known before, just with added extras. He'd grinned, and said that "Everyone keeps secrets, boss", before remembering what he'd come in for and asking Hannibal to borrow some aftershave, the Colonel passing him the desired item before wondering, as Face left, how he'd managed to underestimate the young hot-headed lieutenant so much.

Murdock had been the next to make the discovery during a mission (post what Face referred to as 'Plate-gate'; a title that had Hannibal smirking and Bosco groaning at the bad joke) to rescue a kidnapped girl , the desperately worried parents having contacted them for their help. The bad guys of the day had fled the scene when they had released that against the A-Team and Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith's formidable and legendary planning, they had no chance, and while they were being apprehended by Face , BA and Hannibal chasing them in the GMC, Murdock had stayed to get the girl out. Having cuffed the three they'd found in the getaway vehicle and having not heard from the pilot over their comm links, Hannibal had gone back to check on him. Returning quickly to the house the kidnappers had used as a base , he found that one of the bad-guys had obliviously had enough time before leaving to set the house alight, presumably to dispose of any evidence of their crimes. The flame had taken hold well and truly at this point but unfortunately, evidence meant not only the extremely damn flammable fertilizer stored in the basement for making home-made incendiary bombs (turned out that the baddies were wannabe terrorists , who had kidnapped the kid to extort money from her family to finance their operations) , but also the girl as well , who they'd locked inside. Which meant that another possible victim would now be Murdock.

Hannibal hadn't thought as he pulled off his jacket and ran in to find the pilot, breathing in smoky air and the petrol fumes that choked him even when he pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth. He'd found Murdock in the kitchen area, the girl cradled in his arms with her face protected by what seemed to Hannibal to be a damp towel- a temporary measure by a quick-thinking Murdock to try and limit the amount of smoke the kid inhaled. Unfortunately, Murdock obviously hadn't found another towel for his own protection, and had collapsed onto the floor with smoke inhalation, the pilot choking and coughing and trying to struggle upwards regardless, the little girl unconscious in the protective cradle of his arms. It had taken all of Hannibal's strength to drag the half-conscious pilot and his charge half-way out of the burning house, before Murdock had managed to weakly regain some footing , leaning on the Colonel to help him stand .

It had all worked out fine, until they got out, and Hannibal had felt the whooshing of air behind him first before he reacted. He stretched his wings out hard to break the thin bond helping to hold them in place, the strength ripping them out of his shirt, with just enough time to drop to the ground and cover himself , Murdock and the girl with them before the rest of the house had exploded in barrage of flame, the window glass flying as the whole foundations were rocked to their core, the fertilisers finally having ignited. The wingspan had shielded the three of them, and curiously Murdock hadn't mentioned the wings as he pulled himself up, checking everyone was alright and commenting that 'we really need to get some of that incendiary stuff for our grill Hannibal. I'll be able to napalm Face's burgers like no tomorrow'. It was only after he'd made sure the girl was fine; she was a bit shaken up and coughing a bit from the smoke, but she'd fallen asleep, exhausted from the ordeal, in Murdock's arms, that Murdock had paused, before shyly- as though he wasn't sure whether to ask- enquiring as to whether those were real wings Hannibal was sportin', or whether it was just another one of his hallucinations. When Hannibal had calmly replied in the affirmative- because there was no point in pretending, not now- Murdock had reached out, gently feeling the down of the feathers between his fingers, stroking where some had been singed in the heat of the blast. It took Hannibal completely by surprise, standing very still suddenly, because nobody had ever dared touch them, (they were strange, unnatural) but Murdock just murmured 'I'd like to get me some of these', before launching with his usual twenty questions ("Did you get bitten by a radioactive bird?" "Can you actually fly in these?" "Are you related to Warren Worthington III?" (a question Hannibal hadn't understood originally, but which Face explained to him later as being an 'X-men' reference)).

Then after that, Hannibal had decided, 'the hell with it'. Most of the team knew now, and his wings got cramped from all the time they spent being tucked away. He was just tired of hiding them, hiding them from people he knew he'd trust with his life (so why couldn't he trust them with these?) and one night he impulsively walked over to the camp-fire they were sat at with his wings on full display. Face and Murdock had just looked up and gone back to cooking the marshmallows Murdock had convinced Hannibal to buy in their weekly shop for 'necessary supplies' on stripped twigs they'd found. BA of course, had stared, a completely natural reaction upon seeing a man with wings

"Problem, Sergeant?" Hannibal had said, silently hoping that BA wouldn't get funny about this like he had feared. BA didn't speak for a few moments, before saying;

"Man, I don't know whether it's just that fool's crazy in ma blood after that transfusion t'other week that's got me seeing things, but I swear you grown wings, boss"

"You're not crazy" Hannibal had assured him, and BA had looked a lot more content at that. It seemed as though that had been the main crux of the issue, and as long as Bosco knew he wasn't actually hallucinating with 'that fool's crazy', he'd been able to process the whole revelation a lot better. Of course, there had been the questions after , but they had been a bit more sensible than Murdock's had. After a while, Hannibal began to tire of speaking, his eyes getting heavy, but before Bosco could launch another question at him, Murdock had surprisingly interrupted.

"He's got wings, Bosco, leave it at that. We're all special, don't you get? We're the X-Team, jus' without costumes. It's like in the comics, yeah? Boss gets wings like Angel , Faceman's got his charm like Gambit, and you're really strong when you get angry, like the Hulk"

"I ain't no Hulk, fool," BA had growled back, letting everyone know in one sentence that the Sergeant knew his comic book characters a lot more than he let on to Murdock, often proclaiming the things 'childish' and 'for lil' kids'. He glared at Murdock for a second before he spoke again. "Anyway, what'd you get? Since we all got powers"

Hannibal was expecting something aeroplane related- because he'd never met a pilot yet that could pull off half what Howlin' Mad Murdock did in terms of aerial stunts. Surprisingly Murdock winked, tapping his head with one finger "I know things, man. I see things no-one else does, get these feelin's when som'at bad's gonna happen"

"That's cause you crazy" BA countered, "You got summat up wit' yo' brain man, that's why you got that damn dog" Despite his outburst, there was a small smirk on his face. Because as much as Hannibal rejected the idea of them all being some sort of group of super-empowered beings like something out of Murdock's beloved Marvel-verse, the pilot had a point. Despite his craziness, HM always got jittery before something bad went down, always knew when Face got upset, or when it was unwise to approach BA after another 'pre-flight knock-out', even with some more of his famed coconut curry tapenade. Hannibal had always just accepted it though, just put it down to 'one-of-those-things', just like he never questioned the fact that Face seemed to be able to charm anything from anyone, male or female, or how BA could punch a man solid to the ground when one of the team was threatened.

"It's true," Murdock intoned, and Hannibal could hear a mischievous tone in his voice before the pilot's eyes suddenly went wide, staring to a point past BA's shoulder like he was seeing something other that none of the others could "Sometimes, I see _dead people"_

BA fell for the bait, flicking his head round quickly to check- just in case there were any ghost's behind him- before he turned round again to the sound of Murdock and Face cracking up at the look of fear that had been present on BA's face. And Hannibal laughed along too, watching with a smile as BA and Murdock bickered like children, wondering how he'd managed to get saddled with three people who had effectively passed off the fact he was different like it was nothing. He wondered whether it was because they were all outcasts in their own little way, before shaking his head, wondering when his thoughts had become so clichéd, as he watched his boys laughing and joking by the camp-fire. If he'd had the choice though, he knew he wouldn't have wanted his boys any other way.


End file.
